The Lives and Times of the Indispensable Killjoys
by The Red Notes
Summary: Set long before Danger Days. The Indispensable Killjoys roam the Zones fighting for freedom from Better Living Industries. Featuring Wire Witch, Red Rider, Doctor Death Defying, Party Poison, and Korse Chemicals. Rated T for some violence and dystopia.


I

The rain is a beautiful sight until it hits the ground. The rainbow-streaked drops burn through what little life remains clinging to the earth with a puff of acrid smoke. The crimson glow on the horizon is magnificent until the sun rises, its deadly rays almost unfiltered by a dying ozone layer. The ocean's many-colored waves burn. The musical breezes carry the fires' dark smoke. The very earth is coarse and charred. The world is dying, except for Battery City®, but the City is worse. The buildings are clean and white, and nobody feels any pain. There is food, there is water, there is clothing; but Battery City is worse. Humanity survives in Battery City, but their fate is worse than death. The Zones, the unintended child of the City, lie beyond the outskirts and are partially protected by the Gamma Force Fields® and the Weather Re-Distribution Grids® that make the City habitable. Over the years, the Zones have become home to those who refuse to take the pills prescribed by Better Living Industries®: those who recognize that living in Battery City isn't living at all.

The fires of 2015, caused by new Mood-Enhancing® chemical particles spread throughout population centers to combat the rising suicide rates, swept the world, burning every city to the ground, and gave the atmosphere a direct injection of greenhouse gasses and various other toxins, hyper-accelerating global warming. The oceans boiled, and the skies burned, and, as the world screamed and thrashed in its final death throes, the people turned towards the one institution that offered them security and consistency. Better Living Industries: The Aftermath is SecondaryTM.

BL/ind built the Battery City, complete with defenses against a dying worldTM and in-home access to almost every product offered by BL/ind. Even as the last few governments held on, it was painfully clear that the real power rested in the hands of the BL/ind board of trustees. Unencumbered by regulation or competition, BL/ind occupied the position that corporations dare to dream of. The first new products were the anti-depressants, soon followed by the anti-apprehensions, anti-boredom, anti-anticipation, anti-admiration, anti-attraction, anti-distraction, and many others. The list of emotions that humanity was willing to remove with the swallowing of a small, white pill was endless

Next came the vacations in a bottle: pills that allowed the user-consumer to take one in the morning, experience a week at the beach, and wake up in time for the midday consumerism shift. BL/ind then began dispensing weapons to the population in the form of laser pistols. "Solve your disputes in a zapTM." The guns only worked on non-BL/ind entities and did not kill the victim, for that would destroy a customer, but they did clear the mind of the victim completely, wiped the identity, leaving only a blank slate.

But with so much to buy and so little for people to do, BL/ind soon ran the risk of destroying its own profit. To solve this problem, BL/ind invented the Draculoids®: security forces composed of poor citizens of Battery City who would sell the use of their bodies to BL/ind for a specified amount of time. Draculoid assignment also became the punishment of choice used by BL/ind to control lawbreakers and revolutionaries. This program came into effect just as the largest threat BL/ind would ever encounter began its ascent into the pages of history.

The Killjoys were more than just a ragtag team of revolutionaries sporting brash colors and modified laser pistols: they represented a movement, a last break for freedom from Better Living Industries. The first Killjoys escaped to the Zones unnoticed by BL/ind and slowly amassed a force over the years made up of those who had realized the truth of the City and fled.

BL/ind was taken completely by surprise by the first attacks: brightly clothed figures emerged from the zones, raided and bombed BL/ind facilities, captured employees, and stole technology from the corporation with deadly laser guns and a win-or-die spirit that startled the executives, who believed that they had created a zombie population, incapable of realizing the truth of any matter, let alone of resistance.

But necessity is the mother of invention, and BL/ind recovered quickly, turning out a set of new, more powerful military Draculoids called S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S. The S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S served two purposes: providing a higher grade of security than the Draculoids could for use in the more dangerous sections of the Zones and protecting of the City Center and as mobile ghosting units. Few of the original generation of Killjoys survived the introduction of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S, but those that did survive lived on as a voice to the new generation: a call to arms keeping the revolution alive.

II

The radio's many-colored lights flashed on, and the evening broadcast began. _"Look alive sunshine! One-oh-nine in the sky and on the move! After that rude interruption of last night's broadcast by a few of our dear departed friends from Better Living, we had to pack up and move on before the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S came to clean up, so tonight we're broadcasting from the roads of Zone 6. Draculoid traffic is down in Zones Seven, Eight, and Nine, but they've stepped up their game in Zones Three and Five, and Zone Six should be seeing a little spike in activity if they manage to trace the signal. HAH!_

_ There's going to be a shipment coming in through the Zone 8 circuit path, so if any of you Killjoys feel up to the task, crash the party! Yes, but I do have some somber news. There has been a report that Rebel Rocket and Babel Guns have been ghosted, so if you catch sight of that crimson coat or those purple spotted tights, run in the opposite direction. My condolences to the Phantasmal Killjoys. Keep your guns clean and your boots tight, my friends. Now let's upthrust the volume with a..._

The radio clicked and faded out. Korse Chemical let his hand fall from the radio dial. "Come on Korse! I was looking forward to that," complained Red Rider. The other indispensable Killjoys turned away, Wire Witch going back to working on one of the many explosives she carried at all times, Party Poison whipping out his sketch pad to draw his ghosted friends as he remembered them. "We're going to save them," Korse said in his deep, quiet voice. "We're going to find Rocket and Bubbles and turn them back." "Come on, Korse. You say that every time, and you know its not possible. Data Ghost was the best shot in Zone 7, and he and all the Viral Killjoys got taken before they even got to block eight," Red Rider said. "Well, we do have Wire Witch to blow 'em up," mumbled Party Person as he colored Bubble Guns' spotted tights with a purple crayon. "And Party Person's a better shot that Data Ghost every was," said Wire Witch as she twisted several fuses together. Korse stood, his bright blue coat flaring around his knees. "I'm finished with this life. We run, and we run, and we run, but we never accomplish anything. We may pretend to own the Zones, but, really, if Better LIving decided to send all of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S out, we wouldn't stand much of a chance, would we?" The other Killjoys averted their eyes. This was a subject that they consciously avoided, but they all knew what Korse said was true. "If we strike them at the heart and take back our people, we could turn this around. Free the people. Damn the Man, right?"

Just as Korse finished his sentence, the radio's lights blinked red and it crackled back to life "EMERGENCY!" blared a computerized voice. The transmission descended into static and rose again with Dr. D's voice. Killjoys, my signal's been traced. Any help I could get around Zone 3, Grid 550 would be much appreciated! This is Doctor Death Defying signing off. Keep running Killjoys." With a crackle, the signal died. "We're not far from 550! We need to go now!" Red Rider yelled, jumping to his feet, gun in hand. The group turned to Korse who sat in silence, staring at the omnipresent glow on the horizon produced by Battery City's blaring white lights. "Now's the time," he said. "Yeah! That's what I'm saying! We've got to go help Dr. D!" "No, Rider, I see what Korse is saying. Better Living will be sending more Dracs and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S to the Zones than they ever have. Dr. D's the voice of the rebellion, and they're not going to pass up an opportunity to ghost him. We could make it into the city if we don't get caught by surveillance. If we can do that, making it to City Center shouldn't be a problem," Wire Witch said, closing the lid of the bomb. Party Poison penciled in the last line of Rebel Rocket's coat, closed his worn sketchbook and drew his gun. "Let's kill the party."

III

The Indispensable Killjoys roared down the road in their pink-striped black DeLorian, following a seemingly random route to avoid BL/ind cameras. As they approached the border of the city, Korse flipped a switch on the dashboard and the cloak activated, projecting a white exterior over the bright colors of the Killjoys' car to disguise it in the bleached City. As they drove closer to City Center and the unmanned checkpoints grew more frequent, a tangible tension filled the air. The Killjoys silently charged their guns. Wire Witch strapped a plethora of explosives to the lime green vest she wore, Red Rider filled his belt with charge packs for his pistol, Party Poison checked his bright yellow pistol's mechanisms and Korse Chemicals stared, single-mindedly at the towering white monolith growing by the second on the car's viewscreens as he drove the killjoys to a meeting with fate.

As predicted, there was almost no security protecting City Center, and the Draculoids that had been left were easily dispatched with a bright flash of laserlight. As the Indispensable Killjoys crept further and further into the labyrinth that was the BL/ind headquarters, they only became more and more resolute in their purpose: for in each room that they passed, a new experiment was being run to devise a new method of monetary gain at the expense of the people. As they came closer to the center of the great, white building, a low humming became audible: faint at first, but getting stronger and stronger with each step deeper into the building. When, at last, the Killjoys reached the epicenter, the hum was almost powerful enough to make teeth vibrate against each other. With some apprehension, Wire Witch lined the door with silent explosive putty and clicked the ignition. The doors fell open with a soft "whoosh," and a blood-red light struck the Killjoys. What they saw in the room was so horrible that it brought tears to even Wire Witch's eyes. Each and every captured Killjoy stood, eyes closed, locked, stationary in individual recesses in the walls hooked up to hundreds of wires and pipes that kept them in stasis. However, this was not the most horrible thing. The captured Killjoys had been drained of their color: the flamboyant costumes and hair repressed into shades of grey. This may not seem like the stuff of nightmares to someone who has not lived a life in the time of Better Living Industries, but to a Killjoy, whose life is rebellion from the societal lobotomy that BL/ind represents, the transformation into a denizen of the Industry is the ultimate nightmare. That is, it was the ultimate nightmare until the captured Killjoys awoke. Screaming and crying, the hundreds of captured Killjoys opened their eyes, awake again to what they had been robbed of. As if pulled by a puppet master's strings, they drew their weapons, and attacked the Indispensable Killjoys. Red Rider was the first to go down, having exhausted every charge pack in his arsenal. Wire Witch was pulled into the horde of grey soon after, and, in activating her final detonation sequence, gave the final two Killjoys a few minutes more to run. Korse fell in the final stretch, turning to fight the mob to buy Party Poison a few more seconds to reach the door. As he was overcome by the tidal wave of screaming, monochromatic bodies, his eyes met Party Poison's. "Keep. Running."


End file.
